Only This
by chocolicious467
Summary: Two kingdoms and undying hatred, all to be decided by one final battle. When Paige finds herself at the mercy of the Prince of Acraeneia, separated from her family and the world she has grown up in, she should feel anger. But what if the only thing she feels for Prince Cole is unexplainable attraction?
1. First battle

**1\. First battle**

 **Paige**

And once again the flaming sun sank back into the horizon, preparing its awaited appearance tomorrow at the battlefield. In this kingdom even the sun had no rest. Reluctantly Paige allowed the smooth velvet fabric to slip through her fingers, once more shedding darkness upon that lonesome room. She only knew of the foretold attack, of the deaths-to-come, of the cries that would be heard ringing throughout the kingdom like funeral bells. Paige sank into an armchair, her face gently lit up by the shuddering flame of a nearby candle. The fear she had witnessed on the soldiers' faces was enough to shatter her heart. The acknowledged truth that most of them would not live through the next day. Not that they had a choice.

A soft knock on her door aroused her from her grief-stricken thoughts, and she stood, instinctively, candle in hand, squinting into the darkness to identify the silhouette at the far end.

"You're not asleep." Paige let her gaze fall to the floor as she walked over to the bed, where he sat, placing his own candle upon the table top.

"Does that surprise you?" she asked with a heavy sigh. Aiden's face glowed golden in the candlelight, highlighting his angelic features. He had always been her guardian angel.

"No, not really," he replied, looking into his lap again. "You're scared." She knew that his words, although testifying her own dread, also admitted his own. That was the closest that Aiden ever got to admitting fear. She had never seen him afraid before.

"Those people are going to die!" she cried, bounds finally snapping. "All because of this stupid kingdom and its stupid leaders and this stupid stupid war!" His arm rested on her shoulder, as a sign of silent comfort.

"We have to." She could have sworn she heard his voice break.

"But it won't ever end. These lives will be sacrificed, sure, but these enemies will come back. We'll retaliate. More lives will be lost. All for what?" They'd been fighting this futile war for so long it was as if they had forgotten the reason why. Paige was sure there wasn't one.

"Sleep," Aiden whispered. "That's what you need now. Not this deep talk about war and its purposes." He tried to laugh, but the laughter died halfway to his mouth.

"But I want to _fight_!" she pressed on. "I want to fight and be of at least _some_ use!" She turned to him and opened her mouth to say something, but her eyes caught the single tear and rolled off his cheek, clinging to the edge of his chin.

"Happy birthday for tomorrow, Paige," he whispered, lifting his candle from the table top. "Especially if I'm not there to tell you so."

 **Cole**

The large-panelled windows revealed such widespread beauty that it astounded him. The world could be such a peaceful place- but it was these people, who wanted nothing more than to see the pain of others, that rid the world of such astounding beauty. One day all this would be over. And Cole was going to make sure that day was sooner than expected.

"Thinking again?" He turned at the voice, his expression softening as he saw the man at the door, his smile proud and loving. "You need some rest, sire." Faramond was his chief general, his entire family having been loyal servants to the royal family of Askemia ever since anyone could remember, and no man was more likely to set down his life voluntarily for the royal family than Faramond himself.

"Faramond, "Cole began, his voice on the brink of breaking. "Are we doing the right thing?" Faramond's eyes drifted to his feet. Even Cole could see the real answer brimming in his eyes.

"You know that is not for me to judge, sire," Faramond said. Of course that would be the answer. Cole was the Prince; this was all for him to decide. Taking one last deep breath, he spread back his shoulders, chin lifted up and face glowing in the last dying glimmers of the setting sun.

"If only your mother were here to see this," Faramond whispered, just loud enough for Cole to hear. "She would have been so proud."

 **Paige**

Early that fateful morning, Paige hurriedly scrambled into her dress, which had been selected ever so carefully by her mother, who could not have picked out anything less relevant. If Paige had wanted to fight before, any of those wishes had definitely evaporated at the thought of drawing a sword in that ridiculously immense gown, fit for a wedding maybe, but definitely not for the day that was to decide their fates once and for all.

It was made from the finest fabric, and it ran smoothly through her fingers, hugging her curves with a grasp that was too tight at the waist for her liking. Paige had never liked the idea of showing off one's feminine figure. If people couldn't respect you for anything other than how your body looked, there was nothing to be respected for. Other than the corset, which wrapped itself like a python around her middle, everything else was slightly too big for her. She had to slouch in order to prevent the dress from slipping off her body and she slipped her feet into her highest of shoes so that she wouldn't have to hitch up her dress for every step. It was a deep-red off-the-shoulder dress, the dress itself beginning an inch lower than Paige would have liked. It caved in at the waist and suddenly released its grip, flowing free from her hips to the floor. Taking a deep breath, Paige positioned herself in the mirror, just so that the first early rays of the glowing sun caught on her fawn brown hair, clinging to her locks. She hurriedly tied her hair up into a braided crown, securely a few stands with the compulsory tiara, which she had not once been fond of, and brushed herself down, taking one last longing look at the mirror. Paige had always been too short. Hovering just above a measly five foot for as long as she could remember. Of course this proved to be a perfect conversation topic for her mother, however, who would often criticise her height, comparing it to her towering younger cousin, who stood proudly at a five foot five, a perfectly ladylike height, according to her mother. But was it her fault if that imbecile never ceased to grow?

"Paige dear," she heard, at her door, and Paige had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. Queen Anastasia's voice never ceased to irritate her.

"Yes mother," she answered in a shrill voice that didn't sound like her own. Then again, she never dared be herself in her mother's presence.

"Come out Paige," her mother called, rather impatiently. "It's time." _Time for what?_ Paige was tempted to ask, however she reluctantly held her tongue and hitching her dress up, opened the door.

Queen Anastasia did not look like she was mourning what could be their last time together as a family. She looked as if she'd been invited to a ball with the man of her dreams, practically glowing in her strapless pink gown, crown worn proudly upon her head as she looked down upon her offspring with disappointment.

"My daughter," Anastasia gushed, arms resting on Paige's shoulders. "Finally a woman. It is your birthday after all."

"Yes mother," Paige replied, monotonously. She saw no reason to give her mother false enthusiasm when people were dying outside for their sake.

"What have I told you about slouching?" Anastasia snapped, pulling her daughter's shoulders back forcefully as Paige reluctantly thrust her chest forward to please her mother. "And don't forget to smile. You are to be a queen one day, and you must do your best to look beautiful." This wasn't beautiful. This was torture. How could one care about beauty at a time like this. It pained her that her mother didn't even have a second thought for those soldiers heading out to battle as they spoke, despite knowing that such an act was suicidal. All for this one goddamned kingdom and its selfish royals.

"Do they have to fight mother?" Paige asked, trying to look into her mother's eyes. They may as well have been made of ice. When her mother looked back, Paige did not feel anything remotely human radiate from them.

"Yes, it is their duty to fight for the kingdom and its king," her mother snapped impatiently, as she clapped her hands. "Brenda! Fix the hem of this gown for me!"

"But they'll die," Paige protested, as Brenda, Anastasia's most trusted maid got down to work, fiddling with the bottom of her dress. Paige looked back up at her mother, who had now placed her hands upon Paige's shoulders.

"Red really does suit you sweetheart."

 **Cole**

The entire army had been made to wear an attire constructed of only the mournful colour of night black, under the Cole's orders. This was not a time to celebrate; it would never be.

"Let us proceed!" Cole bellowed, his voice taking on an unfamiliar tone, one that belonged to his mother. One that he would have to get used to using. "This day shall mark our victory once and for all!" The entire nation cheered, spurred on by mixed emotions. Anger, for Askemia, which had made the suffer for so long; grief for their loved ones who had set off to fight in this dreaded war; and also a glint of hope. Hope, that that day may mark the beginning of a beautiful era, free of locked-up hatred. Cole for one, was enjoying that aspect of it.

His hands gripped the rail in fear as his eyes scanned the crowds over the balcony. He wouldn't let them down. Cole disappeared back into his chambers, hand running through his tousled black hair. A knock struck against his door and he stopped his pacing, allowing himself a deep breath.

"Enter."

"Sire," came the soft voice at the door, and Cole immediately turned towards the direction of that soft caring voice that caught him off guard delving deep in his thoughts. The girl who entered the room staggered at a height of six foot, often discarded as an unladylike height, however her stooped shoulders and modest posture attempted to compensate for that. Though even if her posture tried, her bold features proved rather difficult to ignore, beginning from her amber feline eyes and her pouty pink lips and the proud mane of curly locks of miscellaneous shades of brown that she wore upon her head.

"Breakfast is ready." Cole smiled, despite himself. Leila had always been one to lighten the mood.

"Sire? Seriously?" Leila threw her head back in laughter, like she always did, and closed the door behind her, collapsing down onto his bed.

"Well I thought I'd get used to calling you that," she said grinning in spite of the circumstances they were in. "After all, that's what kings are referred to as." Cole rolled his eyes and perched on the edge of the bed beside her.

"I'd make a pretty awful king if you ask me," he muttered, kicking the side of the bed.

"And that, my friend," Leila said, rising up and standing in front of him, "Is why nobody asked you. Because you always put yourself down no matter how good you are." He looked up at her and smiled.

"Well you've convinced me," he said getting up as he rubbed his hands in anticipation. "So what are we having for breakfast?"

 **Paige**

"The Acraeneiae are gaining proximity, my liege."

The King arose from his throne, his face an image of uncalculated horror, as the servant descended like a fearful mouse in the presence of a panther. King Isadore had definitely not been expecting this. A high-pitched gasp deafened Paige's left ear, as she closed her eyes, bracing herself for her mother's reaction. If her mother pricked her finger on a needle, the entire Kingdom would come to know about it.

"What on earth do you mean?" she shrieked, her shrill voice echoing throughout the throne room, possibly even through the entire castle. "But they are nothing compared to the noble Askemians!" _Noble._ Paige begged to differ. She never could comprehend how someone so noble could allow citizens of his own kingdom to perish in the name of poverty and starvation. Paige was rarely permitted to leave the castle, however during the rare occasions that she did, she could never take her eyes of the lower citizens begging for scraps of food at doors.

"Anastasia, you will keep quiet!" King Isadore bellowed, his order met with impenetrable silence. Even Anastasia's sobs had ceased. Page watched as the throne room froze, allowing silence to move in and close its ranks around them. Her mother, aunt and cousin were all clustered in one small group, fear and horror painted across each one's delicate face, not one of them allowing themselves to think practically like a leader would. Isadore was an aged man, however like his wife, his age refused to surface on his bold youthful face, that still shone with the features of a leader. However at that one moment, Paige watched as he sank into his chair, as if accepting defeat, allowing the years of age to fill in, defining every wrinkle and crease on his face, as though he had aged a hundred years in the space of that small handful of seconds.

"My men shall press on!" he thundered, his voice bringing a glint of hope into the eyes of the occupants of the throne room. All except for Paige who frowned, jaw clenched as she silenced her raging thoughts. Her father was too proud for his own good. Too proud and too stupid. Whereas the Acraeneiae fought with true passion, Askemia was only fighting to survive, to protect its selfish royalty, who refused to give up their seats of honour. If it were up to her, Paige would end this war with a truce. Heck, if it were up to her, this war would not have been enabled to unfold in the first place.

"My King!" her mother shrieked in that painfully shrill voice again. "Truer words have never been spoken." King Isadore glowed under the praises that were showered upon his determined manner, however Paige suddenly felt sick to her stomach. This was not about to end well at all.

 **Cole**

"Why won't they give up?" Cole growled with frustration, choking at the stench of death surrounding him, as he sheathed his bloodied sword in irritation. "They are losing too many men, can they not see?"

"My Lord," answered Faramond, who always fought at his side. "The Askemians are too proud for their own good."

"This is stupid!" he yelled, his horse carrying him onwards. "They have lost already. More men will only mean more death. Can they not tone down their pride for the sake of their own kind?"

"You have no idea how adamant the Askemians can be," Faramond answered. "They will not rest until their last man is dead." Cole shook his head. He had never before met a royal family so selfish.

"Then we shall end this tonight." Cole's feet dug into the flank of his night black steed, as he raced off towards the castle, his army following close behind. However, despite their expectation, their attack was not met with defence, but empty land, obviously lacking in any form of retaliation. Cole reared back, shooting his general a perplexed glance. In turn Faramond shook his head, equally as bewildered.

"Perhaps this is a war strategy, Faramond," Cole hissed, muscles tensing under his armour.

"Sire..." Faramond whispered, just audible for those around him. "Perhaps the King may still be willing to wage an unjust war, but apparently his warriors have given in." He glanced back at Cole whose eyes widened with recognition. "I don't think the fight will continue."

And that was when the subtlest of smirks appeared on the Prince face.

"Then we shall infiltrate the castle and find the King for ourselves."

 **Paige**

Her bounds finally snapped and Paige stepped forward, to make sure her suggestion would not vanish unheard.

"But what if they invade the castle?" she asked, her voice slightly hoarse.

"Paige!" her mother hissed, grabbing her wrist. Paige attempted to shake her off, but for a women who spent her time doing absolutely nothing but criticise those about her, Queen Anastasia was quite a strong woman.

"Paige, you will remain silent!" her father said, dismissing her attempt at a half-decent suggestion. "They will not get past our men."

"Sire!" came a voice, echoing through the hallway, as if on cue. "Sire, please!" The servant collapsed at the foot of the throne, as King Isadore was forced to rise once more.

"What is it, servant?" he demanded. The servant panted heavily, his words emerging as mere murmurs. King Isadore shook the poor man by his shoulders, eyes ravenously glinting in search for information. "Talk to me!"

"Th-the army, sire!" the servant coughed up, choking on his words. "Th-they refuse t-to fight, sire!" King Isadore's arms went limp, the servant collapsing by his feet.

"What?" he bellowed, his voice shaking the very structure of the throne room.

"We have lost too many men, your Majesty. They claim this war is futile and refuse to give up their lives unnecessarily in such a war, sire." Fear filled the servant as he watched the King's eyes transform, and he added, "This is only what I've been told, sire!" The servant immediately fled the throne room and Paige watched him disappear through the hallway. Clever man.

"What manner of treason is this?" he demanded, his question ringing unanswered around them. No one in the throne room dared utter another word. Queen Anastasia let out a strangled sob, as she clung onto her niece, Fiona, just sixteen years of age, yet already more fulfilling of her feminine role than Paige ever would be.

"What are we to do, brother?" asked Malcolm, shaking his head in disbelief. "What will be their next move now?"

"Halt!" came the voice from the hallway, penetrating through the thickening silence like ice through a blanket of warmth. Paige had never heard a voice like that in the Askemian castle, and she knew instantly that her suspicion had come true. If King Isadore had spent half the time he did grooming his pride, on listening to his one and only daughter, the kingdom of Askemia would have become a rather prosperous nation, however her suggestions had often been dismissed due solely to the fact that she was a woman.

The women behind Paige gasped, however Paige stood her ground, intrigued to catch a glimpse of the face of their intruder.

"You!" her father bellowed with such malice and hatred that Paige couldn't help but wonder what exactly had provoked such futile antagonism between the two kingdoms. The man who entered the throne room at that very moment was far from what Paige had expected in her mind's eye. Rather than the huge muscular bold man , rather like her father, the Prince of Acraeneia was far younger, though his body was supported by strong muscles that rippled with a day's worth of fighting underneath his armour. His hair, tousled and the colour of a starless night sky, and his bronze skin, made him seem more like a woman's daydream rather than the leader of an entire nation. He was closely followed by an older man, his head slightly bowed as if accepting his lower status compared to the royals in his presence. A band of soldiers followed, all with their swords sheathed, proudly prepared for any battle. If her father had half a brain, he would have surrendered then and there, however King Isadore's mind had been clouded by pride for far too long.

"How dare you enter the King's castle without permission?" Isadore demanded, stepping up from his throne. At his words, Paige saw the chests of the few Dukes and nobles crowding the throne room rise, confidence suddenly emerging, bearing the foolish belief that their King's words alone could stand down any enemy.

"There is no fight outside," the Prince replied, his voice deep yet rich, like that of a poet's. "That is why my army and I have decided to bring it in here."

"You call that an army?" the King scoffed, waving his hand dismissively at the crowd of armed warriors, awaiting the Prince's command. "Then you are wasting your time."

"There are more of my men outside, but I decided that it would not be just to bring them into a royal throne room. Although if you'd prefer to face us all..." the Prince's voice held an amused tone, marvelling at how adamant the King was proving to be. Pride was considered higher above all in this kingdom; if one were to lose his pride it would be as if he had lost his right to live.

"Foolish boy!" Isadore mocked, although in reality he had become the fool in this situation. "You think an army of the Acraeneiae can put _me_ down?"

"The fight has been won fair and square Isadore. There is nowhere left for you to flee," said the older man beside the Prince. It would do the King a great good if he were to listen, however Isadore had no intention of doing so.

"Flee?" the King laughed, and a few other joined in, as the man shrunk back, only to be stopped by the Prince's comforting arm, as he gave him a reassuring nod. Now that was a gesture that Paige had never seen her father take on. "And what right do _you,_ a lowly, warrior have to talk to me?"

"You will not speak to my uncle in such a manner!" the Prince bellowed, for the first time raising his voice to a volume that Paige had not imagined to hear from him. Shock fell upon the occupants of the throne room, but the older man looked more surprised than anybody. "My mother treated you like a brother," the Prince explained, softly, "So that makes you my uncle, am I right?" Tears welled up in the eyes of the general, affection and pride for his nephew glinting powerfully in his brimming eyes.

"Enough!" the King bellowed. "You want a fair fight?" Isadore made his way down and stood a few foot away from the Prince. His confident stroll was overruled by the fact that even though the King was a tall man, the Prince was taller, his posture and demeanour much more intimidating than that of the King's.

"I shall give you one. I, King Isadore of Askemia challenge you," the King paused as if merely saying the name of his opponent was shaming enough. "Prince Cole of Acraeneia to a duel." The Askemian occupants suddenly gained hope, their faces brightening with cocky confidence, that Paige did not share. Her father was the finest sword-fighter in all the Land. The Prince stood little chance if he accepted such an unjust challenge.

A smirk appeared on the Prince's face, who unsheathed his sword and lifted his chin up high. "I accept, but what will I win if victory is mine?"

"Anything," the King replied, his voice taking on a challenging tone. "This kingdom, my life..." His eyes turned around, searching for a prize that would tempt his opponent to accept his challenge. And at that moment, Paige felt a strong hand grip her wrist and pull her into the light. "My most prized possession," the King said.

Paige stared in horror at her father's face, that was too clouded with cockiness to remember his paternal love for his only daughter."

"My daughter, the Princess of Askemia."

 **Hi everybody! This is a new story- just decided to try it and see where it went. Please review and tell me what you think- I'll reply to them and try to change anything. It would mean so much if you reviewed! Thanks for reading xxx**


	2. Taken

**2\. Taken**

 **Cole**

She was quite captivating.

Her eyes widened, two large irises the colour of a stormy grey sky, rumbling with the roars of a thousand thundery clouds, and they darted towards him, as if seeking some kind of aid with the grip fastened on her wrist.

Cole watched her with fascination. She definitely looked the part. Red dress hugging her curves and hair elegantly pinned back with a tiara. However, unlike her mother and the other women present in that very room, she seemed to bear an expression of disgust towards her father's words, rather than the painfully patriotic air that surrounded the rest of them.

"Wha-what?" her voice fled her lips in a faint whisper, however in that silent throne room, even a pin drop could be heard and her words were audible to all.

"That's right," bellowed the fool, Isadore through gritted teeth, as if trying to stomach the disgust he felt towards the Acraeneiae. Cole would have gladly let him know that the feeling was entirely mutual, if not for the responsibility of keeping a civil tongue in mind. "If you win, you shall have my daughter. Wed her, if you might." Isadore smirked and for the first time, Cole felt sick to his stomach. It was to _this_ man, this _vile, obnoxious_ human being, that an entire kingdom had been trusted to. A man who would gladly give up his own flesh and blood over the most futile of wars waged over the stupidest reasons. A hundred curses rushed to the tip of his tongue, but Cole bit them back. Who was he to talk, when he himself had led such a battle?

"Father?" the princess said, her voice small and vulnerable. Her eyes darted back again to find Cole's, as if searching his piercing blue ones for an answer, inspecting his firm expression for emotion.

" _If_ he wins, Paige my dear," Isadore said, his words accompanied by a foul smirk. "Which he won't. Everyone knows that _I_ am the finest swordfighter my land has ever seen!" _Your land, Isadore?_ Cole thought, holding back from a triumphant smirk. _Are you truly sure this land is yours?_

Isadore let go of his daughter and Cole watched as she faltered back, barely just avoiding tripping over her dress as she returned to the shadows, an expression of betrayal and horror flooding her face. Her mother, he noted, beamed with pride, chest rising high in approval of her husband's foolishly stupid act of patriotism. Any man who would gladly give up his own daughter to a stranger in order to justify his pride never ought to have become a father in the first place. Cole's grip tightened on the hilt of his sword.

"Pick up your sword and fight!" Isadore spat, flashing the strong steel of his sword as he brought it close to Cole's eyes, an intimidating gesture it would have been, if Cole hadn't seen it performed so frequently. "Raise your sword and we shall begin. Your fate is truly in my hands."

"Very well," Cole sighed, his fingertips itching to put an end to Isadore's infernal bravado. He unsheathed his sword, not failing to catch the glimpse of envy flash across Isadore's face at the sight of Cole's impressive needle-like weapon, constructed of the finest tamahagane, its wooden hilt engraved with intricate features. Cole couldn't help the smallest of smiles as he turned his weapon to face his unfortunate opponent.

"Let's fight."

 **Paige**

She was still in shock.

No, not shock. She knew her father and the foolish ways his mind worked in. But hurt, was perhaps closer to what she felt. Hurt that her own father, was prepared to give her away, like _that_ , for a stupid battle, no regard for any love he felt for her.

She wanted to cry. She wanted to run to Aiden, like she had, for the nearly twenty years of her life. Run to him and cry on his shoulder. Cry until there were no more tears left and then laugh, because that's how he made her feel. He made her happy.

Today, she had no idea whether he was still alive or not.

The prince unsheathed his sword and Paige let out the smallest of gasps conveying her admiration. It was beautiful. Majestic, if you will, two and a half foot of impossible metal, tiny runes carved into its glossy surface, glinting proudly in the sunlit throne room. The prince seemed like a true king with such a weapon in his hand, as if it had been crafted just for him.

Swords clanged and Paige winced. The metal on metal sound had never appealed to her. She watched as the prince's eyes casually skimmed over to hers, just lingering on her for a second too long, sending the slightest of tremors down her spine.

Her father smirked, stepping in for another jab, however his attempts were deflected expertly by the prince, whose very manoeuvres would've brought the crowd to their feet, applauding madly, if not for the patriotic bias. However Paige's thoughts were not with her in that throne room. She could only think of her best friend, may he lay wounded on the battlefield, injured on a hospital bed or well and very much alive. He shouldn't have been down there. _None of them_ should've been down there. They were fighting for a cause they could not name and for a king that could not name them.

Her attention returned to the duel and her eyes settled on the prince once more, watching with strange fascination at his fighting techniques, noting how he only deflected until her father was tired from his own attacks and only then did the prince pounce, threatening to disarm Isadore once and for all. It was as if Prince Cole had purposefully avoided beheading the King, in order to keep his audience at the edge of their seats, anticipating every attack and deflect.

Paige turned her attention to the prince's band of followers. She was surprised to find that none of them so much as wore a single shadow of doubt upon their faces, expression almost proud as their eyes pursued every parry and every strike and every moment the two swords met, metal clanging against metal fiercely. Their expressions almost mirrored the ignorant ones her family member's bore, her mother beaming approvingly with not a single figment of knowledge about what was really occurring in that throne room.

But Paige knew.

She'd watched Aiden fight as they had grown up, Aiden attending his sword-fighting lessons as she herself had been forced to sit through etiquette lessons. She'd sometimes sneak onto the ramparts and overlook their sword-fighting lessons, swinging the sword that Aiden had secretively bought for her sixteenth birthday. She wasn't half bad herself.

"Give up," the King grunted as he attempted to deflect another blow, "while you can, Prince. You may not be around longer to accept such a luxury." The Prince merely smirked, stepping in for another attack, before darting back unfazed. Isadore staggered back, his face an unholy shade of red, ignorantly cheered on my Paige's mother, aunt and cousin, mistaken for a sign of victory.

But that foolish mistake did not remain so for much longer.

On the spur of the moment, a sharp clang ran through the throne room and the spectators watched, lips parted in anticipation as Isadore's sword was struck from his very hand, clattering uselessly onto the steps leading to his throne, before rattling to silence at the foot of his throne, the blade suddenly not as sharp as it had been just minutes before. Paige averted her eyes to the victor, standing triumphantly, face lacking in pride however, as he stood over the King, tip of his sword pointing directly at Isadore's Adam's apple, just inches away from piercing the skin and allowing the blood to flow.

"I suppose that means that I have won."

 **Cole**

Isadore was not as terrible an opponent as Cole had expected.

However, Cole had had no doubt to begin with, in determining the victor before he'd accepted the duel. Cole's sword had been created to win a battle, not lose it in shame.

"And I believe you'd promised me something?" Cole said, with a smirk in his voice as he lowered his sword, the King at his knees before him. Perhaps he would learn some sense that way.

"Kill me and let it be over with," he spat, as eardrums were pierced by a wail from behind him. No doubt the Queen was creating a scene once more. Cole chuckled, stepping back.

"You think that I am murderer, like you, Isadore?" Cole asked. "You clearly did not have such high standards for me then."

"What do you mean?" Isadore asked suspiciously. "If you are not to kill me, what will you do?"

"Well for one, I believed you promised me a few treasures after the occasion of my victory," Cole reminded him, his eyes disobediently darting to the princess, who caught his gaze for but a second, before he knew to avert his eyes. Those eyes were deadly. "It would be lovely if you would kindly pay up."

"My King!" the Queen wailed, running forward and clutching the arm of her kneeling husband, as tears, true or fake, man would never know, ran down either cheek. "You cannot really be considering permitting these bastards to win this war."

"It has already been won, Anastasia," Faramond spoke up, taking to Cole's side, much to his relief. "That is how war works."

"Don't you dare speak my name!" the Queen spat, extending her finger in rage. However, Cole got in a word, before she could insult his dear friend further.

"And don't _you_ ," he said, stepping forward, "dare speak to my soldier that way." Cole exhaled, allowing his burst of rage to leave him. Anastasia backed away behind her husband as he stood, unable to speak beyond the shame he experienced. And for once in his life, Cole felt pity towards the man. After all, Cole of all people, knew the hardships of being king all too well.

"Isadore!" the now former queen yelled in a shrill voice that trembled unsteadily.

"Take it," Isadore muttered, his voice just audible enough for Cole to comprehend. "Take it all. If not my pride, what else do I have left to live for?" _Your family for starters,_ Cole thought bitterly. _A daughter who you'd gladly give up in a futile duel._ He could not comprehend why it angered him so. It shouldn't. The princess could hardly be much better than the family she'd grown up in.

"Very well," Cole sighed, sheathing his sword. "As this palace will have use no more, I shall have it demolished to make room for the people." Anastasia gasped and Cole resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was still a prince, and he mustn't forget that. "For _your_ people, Anastasia. I'm sure that is not such a big crime." His eyes darted to the princess, who still stood in the shadows, shoulders hunched as if trying not to let her dress slip and fingers clutching the velvet of the curtain behind her. She'd been watching him as if she was in awe, but as his eyes fell on her, her eyes widened and she seemed to hold her breath.

"As for the princess," Cole said, cautiously treading over to where she was standing. To his surprise, she didn't back away or shy away from his approach. Instead, she watched him carefully, as if daring him to try anything. "You shall accompany me on my return to Acraeneiae. You'll have a place in my palace, and I'm sure you won't be too disappointed."

He leant slightly closer. Dangerous territory, _very_ dangerous territory. "Women are treated with much respect where I come from."

And Cole could have sworn, that to those words, her lips twitched just that tiny distance to form the smallest of smiles.

 **Paige**

They were scheduled to take leave in an hour and a half.

The prince promised Paige an abundance of fashionable clothing and possessions at the palace and told her maids to pack lightly, just before he excused her to her room.

But naturally, as soon as word left his mouth, Paige ditched her maids. And those damned red heels.

She ran down hallways, bare feet carrying her many times faster than her shoes and dress hitched up in clumps in sweaty palms. Her heart pounded fiercely against a region somewhere between her chest and her mouth. She had to know. She had to see her best friend one last time. Even if he wouldn't be able to see her. She thrust open the doors of the infirmary, dreading the worst, as her eyes darted across the beds, beds bearing all those who had sacrificed for her to be alive that mournful afternoon.

She hovered around each bed, tears brimming as she expressed her condolences with affectionate gestures, passing each soldier she'd befriended over the years. The soldiers she was closer to than her own parents. The soldiers who'd kept her sane for all these years. The soldiers who'd challenged her to playful duels and losing their bets, had jumped into rivers naked once she'd bested them.

The soldiers who'd have given their lives for her.

And had done so that very day.

Ultimately, her gaze fell on _him._ And she ran over, not a thought to be thought twice, feet struggling as they carried her to his bedside.

"Paige?" he murmured, his voice diminished to a hoarse whisper.

"Hey," Paige said softly, placing a hand on his head, as tears slid down her cheeks. "You're going to be okay."

He chuckled, wincing as soon as his laugh departed his lips. "No, I'm not. Ask the nurses." He glanced down at the bandage enveloping his stomach. "Fatal wound."

"It's only fatal if you permit it to be," she said urgently, shaking her head. "You won't die." He smiled in response, sadness behind it.

"They say I did well," he said. "Fended them off like a mother bear, I did. Are you proud of me?"

"I'm always proud of you," she whispered. "But you can't leave me. Travelling the world, remember? You and me, together. No kingdom, no responsibilities. We were going to bring the other soldiers too. And Antonio was going to bring his girlfriend, remember? The really annoying one with the shrill voice that all the boys like to mock and then Antonio always..."

She cried after that.

"They're taking me to Acraeneia," she said, trails of dry tears sticking to her cheeks. "It's not as bad as they made out. The prince seems nice and he says I'll have a room in the palace and..." he looked Aiden in the eyes, as if coaxing more life into those pale blue eyes.

"Good," Aiden said, smiling. There was no sadness behind that smile. "That's good Paige. And if he doesn't look after you, I'll come at him with my sword, you tell him that."

"Of course you will." She wouldn't have doubted him if he'd told her that yesterday. But now she knew it wasn't true.

"Happy birthday Paige," he said, clutching her hand. "See I was here to tell you myself." He closed his eyes with those words, smiling to himself.

He didn't open them again after that.

 **First of all, so sorry for taking so long to update. I was waiting for the reviews (which were so lovely) and I had so much schoolwork to do. Really hope you guys like this chapter xxx**

 **Guest: Thank you! So glad you liked this chapter. Sorry it took so long to update.**

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 **Fann: Really hope this lived up to your expectations. Thanks so much for reviewing!**

 **I would love it if you guys reviewed my work because it honestly makes my day so much better and motivates me to write faster. Thanks so much everyone xxxx**


	3. New Beginnings

**First of all, I'm going to be apologising a lot because I'm terrible at time-management and I haven't uploaded a chapter in sooo long. Really sorry for that folks! Anyway hope you enjoy this chapter and hope it lives up to your expectations!**

 **Thanks so much you reviews too- they are so heart warming and amazing and I also become so happy when I read them.**

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 **Fann: I know Isadore's a vile man, however in some ways it is him and Anastasia that shape Paige, and this comes back later in the story. Also I'm incredibly sorry that I haven't updated in such a long time but please know that I definitely will find take the time to finish it although I'm swamped with exam stuff right now too. But I definitely will finish it! And again thank you for reviewing xxx**

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 **2\. New beginnings**

 **Cole**

When she returned, she somehow looked different.

Not physically. She was still attired in that same off-the-shoulder red gown that should have been outlawed if it were up to Cole, and that same persistent frown upon her face, adamant to remain despite his wishes. But despite all that, she looked different. As if in that small space of an hour or two, she had aged fifty year or so, new stress marks lining her olive skin, new bag under her tired eyes and the presence of grief behind that hardened wall she seemed to have put up around her. Her face betrayed nothing but Cole had come to know the face of grief and the princess's was no exception.

The carriage was waiting patiently outside the foot of the castle when she made her first steps down the stairs and Cole leant lazily against the carriage, awaiting her arrival as he caught up in current affairs back in Acraeneia with much- appreciated aid from Faramond.

And then he caught sight of her.

For a princess from such a shallow dignified line of royalty, Paige proved rather different, seizing each opportunity to surprise him. Two maids trailed after the princess, both red in the face, running lightly as if struggling to keep up with the Princess's steady walk. They hauled two luggages amongst them with a few dresses draped along their arms, and the princess walked before them, clutching what appeared to be a pair of red heels in her hand. It was a sight that brought a faint smirk to Cole's lips.

It felt like an aeon before the trio finally reached the carriage and even then, he noticed how Paige would not once raise her eyes to meet his, instead adopting to allow her eyes to wander the endless realms of the pastel blue sky above. The weather seemed to be in an awfully cheery mood for a day that seen so many unnecessary deaths.

"I see that the princess hasn't felt the necessity to change," Cole remarked partially because he hadn't felt the need to address the princess directly since she hadn't even bothered to simply cast a glance his way. But also because he wanted her to respond.

He'd been fooled. Once again Paige stood her ground, eyes fixated on some faraway distant attraction clearly more entertaining than the prince's face.

"And she doesn't speak," he muttered just about inaudible that his words skipped the ears of the princess. However Faramond wasn't so far away from him.

"Cut her some slack your Highness," Faramond advised, placing a firm hand upon Cole's shoulders. "We men cannot process how difficult this must be for the princess." And with Faramond's words ringing in his ears, Cole saw the princess in a new light. Her mask of dignity and pride fell away and he saw the sheer vulnerability concealed within.

"You are to ride with the coach," Cole said, purposefully ignoring the addition of her title, just to spark something in the girl who seemed to have absolutely no interest in him. "We'll reach Acraeneia by sundown." He watched her for a moment longer, inspecting her distant stormy grey eyes and tilted thoughtful face and parted lips, almost begging for a response.

And just as he lost hope, turning reluctantly to head for his own trusty steed, she surprised him once more.

"I won't be riding with the carriage if it does not bother you sir."

Cole halted in his tracks, frowning as if he had misheard the soft words uttered in the form of the princess's voice.

"I beg your pardon?"

 **Paige**

She could feel his deep blue eyes searching her as she gazed faraway into the empty pale sky, hoping, no _yearning_ , to catch Aiden's voice hanging onto the gentle breeze tugging at the loose strands of her hair.

"I'd rather prefer riding my own steed if it pleases you sir," she said respectively, allowing her eyes to finally meet the Prince's. And instantly she wished she hadn't.

When she was but a child Paige had heard rumours that the glances of the Acraeneia eye could be deadly. And now, at her twenty year old self, she could confirm that they were true. Cole had these eyes that were blue but not _quite_ blue if you watched them carefully, for you would surely catch a glimpse of the most intricate flecks of green and grey sparking inside those deep blue orbs for eyes.

She averted her eyes immediately.

The prince didn't say anything but Paige was sure that he had caught her brief glance and her moment of hesitation but had resorted to remaining silent, watching her thoughtfully. Prince Cole was proving rather difficult to read.

"You'd rather ride your own horse than travel accompanied by coach?" Cole asked, arching a single brow inquisitively. Paige maintained her silence, deciding that was answer enough.

"Very well," Cole sighed, turning away from her and facing his most trusted knight. "Faramond please accompany the princess on her journey. I shall ride ahead and lead the guards."

Paige was tempted to open her mouth and deny company, however she knew not the journey or the roads and would sooner end up lost. Although Paige was somewhat experienced in horse riding and navigating, the woods of Acalla were the only place that Paige knew like the back of her hand. Acraeneiae was a strange realm and she would not know her up from her down without company. Besides Faramond seemed trustworthy enough.

Cole was about to turn around for the final time, however Paige sensed a hint of hesitation in his step and she could have sworn that just for briefest most subtle of moments, so subtle that it barely attempted to exist, Cole's eyes drifted back to Paige, just before he turned and walked away from the carriage leaving Paige alone with Faramond.

"Your Highness, if you have a certain horse in mind I shall get the guards to fetch it for you," Faramond said, his eyes gentle and kind, completely different from the courageous firm expression she'd witnessed him bear in the throne room.

"I'm not a princess anymore sir," she said simply. "And I believe it is best if I fetch my horse. Orion doesn't like to answer to strangers I'm afraid." Faramond smiled down at her and she tried to smile back, with the few glimmers of hope that still strived within her.

"Very well my lady. But perhaps we should hurry. The prince does not like to be kept waiting."

 _I should think so,_ Paige thought, watching his figure thin to a slight silhouette in the distance, swiftly diminishing from her sight. However she kept her thoughts to herself, for once in her life paying heed to her mother's tiresome words.

 **Cole**

Around an hour or two later, Cole called upon his guards to halt, the carriage coming to a gradual stop behind him. He slid off his horse, patting her flank appreciatively as his thoughts wandered back to Faramond and the princess, who had set off just minutes after them. They should be here by now.

"Do you require anything your Highness?" asked Damien, but Cole shook his head, neglecting his roaring stomach as he squinted into the woods they had recently departed from. He could almost imagine the pair of them emerging from the greenery majestically, with Faramond being an excellent horse-rider and the princess… True, he had never witnessed her riding skills however the Paige had proved to be the sort of girl with surprises tucked up every sleeve.

Cole tugged at his own sleeves then, shivering momentarily in the bitter cold that had begun to surround them that evening. The princess would be freezing in that dress of hers. Though he knew with an accomplice like Faramond she would hardly be permitted to freeze beside him.

If only she hadn't been so adamant to ride her own damn horse when he had gone through all that effort to prepare a coach.

His train of thought was sharply interrupted by the sudden abduction of his attention as he spotted the emergence of two faint silhouettes, gaining close proximity as they rode towards him.

Cole felt his lips part involuntarily as the princess emerged into the light. The gown that had appeared too feminine just few moments ago now seemed to burn fiercely about her, a bright feisty aura surrounding her figure. Her fawn brown hair seemed to dance in the wind as she rode, each lift and turn of her loose strands just as impeccable as the other.

It was only when they came to a gradual halt in front of him that Cole recalled his whereabouts, clearing his throat as the pair dismounted.

"Are we to rest here, sire?" Faramond asked him and Cole lifted his head, eyes drifting away from Paige as he acknowledged his good friend's presence.

"Huh?" Cole muttered as he cleared his throat once more. "Well that seems to be the plan, Faramond. The horses must be tired and it would be cruel to push them further. Also the guards need refreshing and," Cole added glancing briefly at Paige, "I'm sure the princess would like to rest too."

Just as Paige lifted up her eyes at the mention of her name, Cole averted his own. This little game of avoiding eye contact that the pair of them were keeping at seemed to have no end.

"I'm fine really," Paige commented and Cole turned, surprised she had spoken. "But I believe a source of food would be efficient for us to keep moving if we are to reach Acraeneia by sundown." Both Cole and Faramond eyed the princess thoughtfully and noticing this, her eyes widened and her gaze faltered.

She turned, somewhat flustered and walked away from them, leading her horse gently as she left the two of them, bewildered by her strange actions.

"She's a very curious girl, Faramond," Cole remarked, narrowing his eyes as he watched her disappear. "I can't quite decide what to make of her."

"You're very right, sire," Faramond agreed. "I see none of Isadore inside that girl. I would never believe she was from damned Acalla if I hadn't seen for myself."

Cole considered his words.

"Or perhaps that is what makes her more of an Acallan. Difficult to read and unpredictable."

 **Paige**

She had no idea where they were.

Although she had spent nights and days, stealing moments from her futile etiquette lessons, dreaming about travelling the world, meeting new people, experiencing new cultures and seeing new kingdoms, Paige had never, not once in her entire twenty years of existence, set foot outside the small realm of Acalla. The walls of the castle had formed her life and her mother's words dictated her actions.

However today, with the unseen aid of a _complete stranger_ her wishes had come true. She was no longer a princess and she was no longer an Acallan. But today was also the day that she had lost the most significant elements of her life. She'd lost her best friend, her boys in the army, her kingdom, her _people_.

And she had lost the stupid belief that had burned at the back of her heart. The belief that she was loved by her family. That despite all the chattering and fussing, her mother still loved the raw little vulnerable girl inside. That even if he never dared display it evidently, her father still loved her with all his heart.

Orion whinnied, somehow detecting her falling mood and feelings, nudging her affectionately in an attempt to lift her spirits. She giggled and stroked him, sighing as she reached the edge of what she assumed was a cliff, away from the rest of her accomplices.

Wrenching the little tiara from the top of her head, she allowed her brown locks to fall onto her shoulder, collapsing with no grace whatsoever upon a somewhat comfortable-looking rock, from which she could gaze into the beginnings of yet another sunset.

"Some life we're living, huh?" she said as Orion settled down beside her. "You are my only friend now, Orion. Everyone else has left us for a better place." Her eyes drifted to the sky, now tinged with the early pastel pink of sunset.

"Aiden, you lucky little idiot," she said, trying to smile through her brimming tears. "You better be praying for me from up there."

Orion cuddled up to her as she cried, tears upon tears cascading down her cold cheeks as they stole a little piece of her grief with every drop, diminishing the glowing sorrow within. And when she wiped her eyes, laughing because it felt so good to laugh after crying, her trusted horse nudged her playfully, replacing some of that lost grief with newfound hope.

"Princess!" she swivelled around at the voice, grateful for the distance, for they could not see the remnants of lost tears glistening upon her cheeks. "We are to depart in five minutes!" the guard called and Paige nodded, before she realised that her nod would go unnoticed.

"I shall be there!"

She stood, blinking swiftly, ridding her eyes of any evidence of tears. She would not have them see her like this. After all she was the Princess of Acalla, no matter what happened.

Her eyes fell to the delicate construction of silver glinting adamantly in her fist, and she smiled, a reaction that she had not even anticipated herself.

She may be a princess, but she did not need a piece of metal to tell her that. To define her, to dictate her actions and life. Because that part, she could do better herself.

Paige walked to the edge of the cliff and opened her fist, the weight in her hand suddenly relieved, as the tiara finally parted from her.

And she waited upon that cliff-top until she heard the small faint satisfying clang of metal upon rock.


	4. Finally Home

**I'm so sorry for how late this is. I've been quite busy for the past few months with GCSEs and everything so I haven't really been able to write. But please know that I will definitely be finishing this story. Also, you guys are so amazing for bearing with me and reviewing and telling me what you think. It really makes my day and motivates me as a writer. Thank you so much for the support xxx**

 **P.S. Reviewers check your PM xxx**

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 **\- Fann: Thanks so much for bearing with me and reading this story since the beginning; it really means a lot. I'm really for sorry for making you wait so long but I really hope you enjoy this chapter xxx**

 **-Guest (1): Thank youuuu! I hope you like this chapter xxx**

 **-Guest (2): It's actually just original fiction so I decided to post it in the Fairytales section, because I guess it is like a fairytale. Also, I'm so glad you like this and thank you xxx**

 **-Qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnm1: Thank you! And I'm sorry for taking so long- hope this makes up for how long I took xxx**

 **4\. Finally Home**

 **Cole**

For Cole, time seemed to pass by at an incredibly mundane speed, mocking his impatience and unquenchable desire to return home. It was almost as if the roads ahead forged themselves in such a way merely to deter Cole's path and test his already suffering patience. For the hundredth time, he grunted in frustration and his horse, sensing his unrest, reared abruptly, forcing Cole to halt and announce yet another damned rest. If Cole could have his own way, he'd plough through the roads with no rest at all, for he was so determined to shake the horrifying remnants of Askemian blood that still seemed to hang onto his clothes.

As Cole leant by his horse draining the contents of a flask with the thirst he'd neglected since Askemia, he watched the princess dismount her horse. He was amused to see the absence of her tiara. Strange.

"The princess seems to have lost her tiara, Faramond, " Cole remarked. "She doesn't seem particularly bothered, I must say." Faramond chuckled.

"You wouldn't believe if I told you she threw it away herself, would you?" Cole almost choked on his water. Faramond seemed to find it rather amusing though, laughing as Cole attempted to coax some air back into his lungs.

"Really?" His gaze wandered to Paige herself, who was cheerily exchanging pleasantries with her horse, seemingly her only true companion on this journey. Her grin forced his lips to tweak in amusement. "She's a strange being, Faramond."

Faramond just laughed. He seemed to be finding this entire conversation rather amusing. "Strange, sire? I'd say she's just... different."

Cole averted his gaze. "Those are the ones you really have to watch out for."

 **Paige**

Night fell so gradually around them that Paige would not have noticed its arrival if not for the faltering in Orion's steady gallop. The horses before her slowly came to a halt and Paige was forced to do the same, wondering where they'd safely take shelter for the night. The road ahead of them seemed to fade into grassland, part of a large widespread plain that seemingly had no periphery. Every few yards was freckled with the shadow of trees, leaving majority of the plain to bathe in the silvery glow of the half-moon that lay lying on her back in the cloudless night sky.

It was Faramond who approached her first, followed by some other men she'd become acquainted with along the journey. In fact, she'd seemingly befriended majority of the men, except for the Prince himself, who kept a dignified yet unnecessary distance away from her. Perhaps his hatred for Askemians extended to herself too.

"We're stopping here?" Paige asked as they approached her. Faramond nodded. Upon first glance, he resembled the spitting image of the perfect soldier, with his broad unmoving shoulders and stern dark eyes, so dark that they bested the night sky even. Yet after coming to know him, Paige could confirm that appearance rarely spoke the whole truth, for Faramond proved to be caring and kind. No wonder the Prince was so close to him.

"The horses refuse to nudge any further," he said, with that same welcoming smile. "The Prince has ordered for us all to rest before continuing tomorrow. We have a little while on the road still, 'till we reach Acraeneia."

"Thank you Faramond," Paige said. The men turned and left, once they'd invited her to their little campfire, which the rest of the men were struggling to build in the distance by a large oak tree. Paige, leading Orion, walked to seek some private shelter, where she'd be able to reflect, once the others had slept. When Paige left her little spot to join the men by campfire, she caught sight of the Prince, some distance away, by the bank of a large lake that she had failed to notice. His back was turned to the rest of them, and he leant against his horse.

For the first time, since she had lain eyes on him, Paige saw him, not as the King he promise to be one day, but rather as a little boy, aged much like herself, too young to be in the forefront of all this. Too young to have seen so many deaths.

Perhaps they had something in common after all.

 **Cole**

He could hear laughter in the distance.

Cole couldn't rejoice like the rest of them. He failed to see how they were all so upbeat, able to joke around and enjoy themselves. Maybe it was because it wasn't all their fault. They weren't the ones who would go to sleep that night and know that all those deaths, all the cries from today and all the cries for tomorrow were their fault.

But Cole would.

He could have done something. _Anything._ Yet this was what being a King was about. Fighting for what was right. However, Cole could not shake the question in the back of his mind, no matter how hard he tried to justify himself.

 _Was it worth it?_

"Hey."

Cole's hands immediately tightened around the hilt of his sword and his feet dug into the grass, yet when the soft and gentle quality of the greeting registered in his mind, he loosened his grip upon his weapon and look up.

He half expected the Princess' image to be some form of illusion, crafted by the romantic atmosphere and wandering quality of his mind, for her image almost seemed to shimmer in the moonlight, like a fragile reflection trembling upon the water's surface. He almost reached out to make sure she was real.

"Can I sit?" Her question surprised him, although her approaching him was already surprising enough, and he nodded his lips parted and eyes wide, still in amazement, as she sat regally, gentle smile playing on her lips. Her face was tilted high, the moon's silver glow dancing upon her cheeks and casting dainty shadows beneath her cheekbones.

"Lovely night, isn't it?" It was at this, that he finally pulled himself together and replied, choosing not to remain the dumbfounded idiot he'd played the part throughout the beginning part of the conversation.

"If you were talking about the view, I suppose so," he said. The Princess looked up at his words then, as if expecting him to elaborate. And because of that small glance she gave him, he did. "But the death, the cries, the _loss_ ," he continued, "I don't think any amount of glory and victory is worth that."

She remained quiet, and he dared not look back at her, for he was afraid he'd depressed her. She was a princess. Not a goddamn therapist.

"It's funny how so many people seem to think otherwise," she replied, and he looked at her, despite his rational thinking. "Some people don't think about how every soldier, every person fighting, is just another one of us, with a family, and friends, and a home. With a life to return to, with people that will cry when they leave and lives that could be ruined without them."

For the first time since his parents had passed away, Cole wanted to cry. Her words spoke the truth he tried to neglect, tried to hide away from, tried to run from.

"My best friend died today. Him and a hundred others, who I grew up with. People I loved even more than my parents, which isn't saying much, but I loved them nevertheless," she continued. "My parents didn't even care at all."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, too afraid that his voice would break. "It's all my fault." As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He knew that it was his fault, but it would make it more real, hearing it from someone else.

"No," she objected softly, and his doubts and fears wavered. "It's not your fault. You wage war for the sake of good. My parents waged war because they're blinded by stupid pride and ignorant honour. You were trying to free the world of their evil."

He watched her carefully as she said the words, as if he was still having trouble believing that she was speaking them. Yet she was, her lips moving and her eyes tracing the horizon, which flickered fiercely, like the a thin line of raging silver flames. Then she looked at him. With her cool, grey eyes, glowing pale and silver, just like the moon itself. She smiled too, a gentle soft and slow smile, which begun at the corners and ultimately forced his own lips to tweak.

"Thank you for that."

 **Paige**

She remembered as she walked up to the Prince, a thousand doubts and even more regretful pleas hindering her. She had no idea what she would say. She didn't know how she'd start a conversation. This was a prince from a completely different kingdom, with completely different values and absolutely nothing in common with Paige. They resided in different dimensions, yet the war had brought them into one. Was that how she'd begin small-talk?

Nevertheless, much to her surprise, talking came easier. Minutes, or perhaps hours, later, they sat upon that bank, overlooking the still, quiet ocean, after all the fire and laughter from behind had died down and dimmed. They had reached that quiet stage, where you could simply sit and enjoy the silence, with no commitment to continuing small-talk to avoid awkward silence.

"My dad used to tell me that those stars up there," Cole spoke, out of the blue, nodding at the dark night sky, freckled with what resembled fairy dust, "They're our ancestors, looking down on us. Guiding us." Paige's parents had never spoken to her as such, unless they had felt the need to urgently criticise her.

"I hope _my_ ancestors are not up there, trying to guide me," Paige admitted. "I'm afraid they'd give rather terrible advice."

"They can't be that bad," Cole said. "At least one of them must have been sane."

"My great-great aunt once sent an entire army to war over the matter of a pigeon," she told him. "Something about a wrong message. Poor pigeon was killed too." Cole returned with an expression that was difficult to label- either that of disgust or amusement, that people could actually be so ridiculous. Nevertheless, it was evident Cole knew very little about Askemia. In Askemia, honour was all that mattered. If someone so much as insulted your hair, war was the only option. "I'd bet an entire kingdom that your ancestors are much more...tolerable." Paige chose her words carefully. Sure, her family was insufferable. However, they were still part of who she was, and perhaps a fragment of her still believed she was Askemian, and that her family still loved her.

"I wouldn't know from experience," Cole replied. "I never knew any of them. They all passed away before I was born. But..." He faltered. It seemed strange that such a fierce and ruthless (as she had been told through the narration of her parents and relatives) ruler seemed to be broadcasting a more vulnerable interior, one which Paige had failed to witness in her parents. "I would have liked to have met my parents. My aunt tells me they were kind, caring people."

And so Paige listened as he spoke of his parents and of many other things. She listened as he spoke and he did so too, as she opened up in return, the two heirs of two _very_ different kingdoms sitting and merely talking. Even the wind had paused to listen.

For the first in her life, Paige had found someone to listen. She had spent a lifetime of twenty one years, hearing her parents speak, letting the words wash right over her, as she responded passively, secretly still grasping onto her personal principles and beliefs, hoping that one day, it would not be seen as a sin to believe in them. As she sat by that lake on that cool night, she wondered if her hopes had finally come true.

 **Cole**

They were closer now. Cole could feel it. The air had somehow become lighter, and the roads were now broader, with the distant faint humming of civilisation, growing in volume with each step they took.

He had spent most of the night talking. It had felt good to finally talk. Cole had had the one luxury in life, to have people who truly cared about him close about him throughout his life. And yet...

He still had never felt that he could truly share everything with any of them. His aunt had huge expectations for him. After all, her entire family had been wiped away and all that was left of that glorious monarchy was Cole. She wanted him to be the most glorious of them all, a symbol of hope and redemption from the loss and suffering Acraeneia had gone through in the past. Faramond too, was a man Cole would gladly and willingly trust his life with. However, it must be said that Faramond thought too highly of Cole. Faramond still had that loyalty in him, the belief that Faramond was the servant and Cole was the master, and no relationship between them could ever overstep those boundaries. In reality, Cole thought of him more as a father-figure.

Nevertheless, Cole sought comfort in his conversation with the Askemian princess, who proved to be a princess after all, even without her tiara and her kingdom. Although a prince, soon to be crowned King of an entire kingdom, Cole still felt like the boy he was inside. An orphaned boy with shoulders too small to bear the weight of the expectations and responsibilities that would arrive on the day of his coronation. When he spoke with Paige, he felt that he was somehow permitted to be that small vulnerable boy. And that was okay. It was okay to be small. It was okay to feel vulnerable. It was okay for him to just stop being a Prince, and finally, be a boy. It had been so long since he'd been a boy that Cole had forgotten what that felt like.

And now he couldn't get that boyish smell off of him. The one that smelt of cool windless nights and sweet sinful liberty.

Then, as suddenly as the feeling had come to him, it vanished. They had surely reached Acraeneia now, for people began emerging from houses and tears of joy were emerging from decades of hiding. So this is what victory felt like.

Cole managed a smile at those who waved at him, and yelled their inaudible messages of gratitude in his direction, although his smile was inevitably tainted with the grief towards the loss of those whose families stood outside their homes, waiting eagerly, hoping that maybe, just maybe, their loved ones would be arriving too. He felt like a coward, hiding behind his smile, unable to face those families. That was when it hit him. It wasn't just the families of Acraeneia that would be split down the middle and devastated. Sure, the Askemian monarchy was a complete disgrace to all things just and pure, yet it was highly unlikely that Paige was the only Askemian with a good heart. How many of those good-hearted people had been affected by this war? The casualties taken by his soldiers were an ankle sprain compared to the severity of the devastation faced by the Askemian army. All this...and for what?

With those thoughts hindering his relief to be home, Cole finally reached the castle, just few steps behind the large coach that had been meant to host the Princess. The Princess was just a little distance behind him, travelling with Faramond and a few other men she'd befriended. Surprisingly, his men seemed to appreciate her presence, a reaction completely different to the hostile one Cole had initially predicted- hence the arrangement of a coach.

Cole dismounted his horse just as the double doors of the castle were thrust open and just as he'd expected, his aunt rushed out, and Cole was forced to forget his thoughts and grin with affection. Despite everything he had left to face, he was glad to be home.

"I'm so glad your home," she gushed, enveloping him in a large, warm, much-appreciated hug. "And you've come home victorious." Of course she knew. Faramond had promised to keep her updated with her nephew's whereabouts and the battle's progress. However, there was one thing that she had not yet come to know.

"Aunty, I have to tell you something," he whispered. The others would be arriving rather soon.

"And why this large coach, Cole?" his aunt continued, completely ignoring his question. "There's no one even inside it."

"That's what I wanted to tell you," he began. "It's supposed to be for the Princess." His aunt did a double take, and only a moment later, did Cole realise how his ambiguity may have led to misunderstanding. And his aunt's long term desire to see him marry was one that would no doubt fuel this misunderstanding.

"Not _my_ princess, aunty, goddamn it," he gushed. "I meant..." He trailed off and took a deep breath. Great. Now he was flustered. "She's not mine. As in... Well I don't own anybody for that matter, but..."

"She's beautiful."

Cole froze. They had arrived. And of course, they had to look magnificent. Or at least _she_ did. Cole wished he could have warned his aunt earlier. She was watching Paige with awe, with that look she gave women whom she wanted to adopt into the family.

"Aunty..." he began wearily. "That's the Princess of Askemia."


End file.
